


Throughout All Time

by pinkeow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Historical, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, M/M, Reincarnation, Romance, Soulmates, Time Skips, bokuroo are Best Bros, don't be scared by the mcd, museum worker!bokuto, professor!akaashi, tw: mention of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 15:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21199577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkeow/pseuds/pinkeow
Summary: I belong to youAnd I, to you





	Throughout All Time

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i've been pretty into hq and i love bokuaka with my whole heart so i thought about trying to make a fic for them
> 
> honestly, this is just me trying to crunch up some sh*t together before uni starts again
> 
> not beta-ed properly cos i lowkey got lazy so i apologize for any mistakes!
> 
> i also apologize for historical inaccuracies, i generally did some research but at some point, i pieced together some stuff to fit the story
> 
> keep in mind:  
regular text - current period  
italics - past life
> 
> thank you kimmy for allowing me to send you my drafts, you're a real one and ily
> 
> ok, that's all. enjoy (??)

_Before I came to know you, love,_

_Little my life was worth to me,_

_I prize it now all things above,_

_And wish long in this world to be_

_ -Fujiwara no Yoshitaka_

Tokyo in the evening was a stunning vision. High-rise buildings with flashy lights served a stark contrast to the black and purple hues of the night sky. The streets were teeming with the bodies of people trying to get to their respective destinations, crossing lanes packed and street corners jammed. Loud laughter and music surrounded the city, encasing it in its vibrant tendrils.

Alive. This place was always alive.

Bokuto stretched his tired neck, making a small cracking noise, as he stepped jauntily outside the big wooden doors of the museum. The Cold Tokyo air caressed his face, leaving it with goosebumps, no doubt, a sign of the upcoming winter season. He prided himself for not forgetting to bring his coat this time around. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and wriggled them as he tried to look for warmth. The trees had also started to turn into lovely hues of orange and red, their leaves deliberately cascading onto the ground below like an elegy to summertime.

Today had been an awfully taxing day for Bokuto. Perhaps, that was what came with being a conservator at the National Museum. An old painting was assigned for him to fix, he presumed that the artwork was made around the 1900s. A month ago, he had begun on the project and through careful and efficient work, he was able to repair the tearing and flaking that the painting endured. After all of that was done, he had to paint over some blank spots.

Now, he loved and enjoyed his job most of the time, but during the moments when he had to become a manual color selection tool and the shade for the hand just wouldn’t match regardless of the number of his attempts, Bokuto was left questioning his sanity. In the end, he abandoned it for a while, lest he pop a nerve and in a fit of rage, draw a clown face on the fair maiden in the painting.

He would very much like to keep his job that paid his bills and placed a roof over his head. Thank you very much.

Not long after, Kuroo stepped out, face passive and hair still an organized mess. He nudged Bokuto by the shoulder to make his presence known. “Ready to go?”

“I..uh...” Bokuto stammered, startled by his best friend. “Yeah! I was just waiting for you.”

The two men fell into step, their shiny loafers making timid noises on the concrete. Today was a Saturday and Saturdays usually meant that Bokuto and Kuroo would go out and have fun. They decided on a system in which they would take turns choosing the location and activity for the night. This time, it was Kuroo’s turn.

“So…” Bokuto began, “Where are we headed off to?!”

“It’s a secret.” Typical. Kuroo always had a thing for surprises. Nevertheless, it did not deter Bokuto’s will to ask where they would go for their Saturday night hangs. Kuroo decided to have a change in topic. “How’s that painting you’re working on?”

Bokuto rolled his eyes, pupils almost reaching the back of his head. “Nightmarish! I was painting over it today and I could not get the shades to match.”

Kuroo whistled at that. “No wonder we suddenly heard you screaming.”

Embarrassedly, Bokuto rubbed a hand over his neck. “Sorry about that.” He looked over to Kuroo with a teasing glint in his eye. “What about you?”

“Dude.” Kuroo huffed. “Digitizing those documents has been such a bitch. I still have one more stack to go through and I’m this close—” He pinched his thumb and pointer together to a point that they were almost touching. “—to mashing my head through the computer.”

Bokuto laughed, loud and hearty. “That wouldn’t end well for you.”

“You’re right, it wouldn’t, but it would be worth it.”

“You’re crazy.” Bokuto commented as he shook his head at the antics of his best friend.

A few blocks later and they arrived at a carnival. A huge overarching sign welcomed them, the design having that distinct tacky carny flair. From the outside, one could hear the shrieks of children and the zooming of the rides. Bokuto’s eyes lit up in excitement at the prospect of going inside. He had always been a sucker for wild rides and loud atmosphere of the carnival.

Sensing his friend’s delight, Kuroo offered a shit-eating grin. “It opened just last week and I figured we had to go.”

“Well duh!” Bokuto yelled and ran inside, leaving his best friend to his own devices.

▫ ▫ ▫

Teacups, ferris wheel, frisbee—Bokuto and Kuroo rode them all. Any contraption that had an engine and could seemingly make one hurl their guts out, they went to. However, the experience would be incomplete if they missed out on the carnival games. The ball toss was clearly rigged so that no one could completely topple all three pyramids but Bokuto and Kuroo, with their brute strength honed by years of playing volleyball, were able to rise to the challange. Needless to say, the stink eye the game keeper gave them after they won was enough of a prize.

As the night progressed, the crowds of people thinned. The two best friends continued to wander about in the carnival, pink cotton candies in their hands and mouths. Suddenly, something caught Bokuto’s attention, a purple tent standing right by one corner. It was clearly out of place next to the game booths with huge stuff toys and bored storekeepers. Bokuto could not understand the feeling that was drawing him nearer and nearer to the said tent. It was like his gut was screaming at him to _just go inside!_

“Come with me.” Bokuto said to Kuroo, his body moving faster than his words. Without, any hesitation the latter followed him, still munching on his sweet treat.

Sheepishly, they entered the tent and offered meek hellos. It was dark inside, the place adorned with maroon drapery. Bokuto saw a stack of tarot cards and bottles with dainty flowers inside. A wall of dreamcatchers stood in all its glory, the trinkets of different sizes. It all seemed otherworldly, Bokuto thought amusedly to himself.

“Hi.” A voice suddenly popped up making Bokuto and Kuroo flinch from where they’re standing. The two of them turned to see a middle-aged woman, her hair golden and her smile bright. She wore a long red dress with bell sleeves and her neck was decked out in an array of necklaces. “Are you here for a reading?”

“A reading?” Bokuto asked dumbly.

She nodded. “You did enter my tent after all.”

Now, Bokuto himself was unsure if he did believe in this superstitious stuff. He had always heard that these fortune tellers made predictions to be as vague as possible so the person would think that it was their fate being read when it was all a scam. Though, regardless of that, there was something exhilarating about delving into the unknown.

You could say that he was somewhat interested.

He turned towards Kuroo to get his friend’s opinion. The latter did not disagree and instead, gave him a shrug. Bokuto whipped his head towards the lady and nodded. “We’ll take you up on that offer.” One reading wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Splendid!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together. They noticed that like her neck, her fingers were also speckled with numerous accessories, the rings in particular, making clanging noises. She offered Bokuto and Kuroo seats and made her way to the other side of the table.

“Could you give me your hand?” She asked gently and Bokuto extended his hand towards her. She inspected it closely as if looking for a speck of dirt. Silence engulfed the whole tent as Bokuto awkwardly maintained his outstretched arm for the lady to focus on.

A few minutes passed before she finally let Bokuto’s hand go, the latter still feeling the ghost of her touch on him. “Huh.” She remarked.

“What is it?” Bokuto asked, curious.

The woman seemed to be lost in thought. No longer looking at either Bokuto or Kuroo. “You had a luxurious past. Honor, wealth—everything.” She began. “But love…” She paused. “Love was taken away.”

Bokuto raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know about soul connections?” She asked, now looking at him, her eyes dead serious.

“No?” Bokuto answered candidly. It was the first time he had ever heard of such a concept.

The lady sat back on her own seat as she tried to find the words to explain. “There are certain people whose souls are connected. This is a working of the universe. However, it is rare for these chosen people to meet each other.”

Bokuto was confused with all of this. The woman was going off on a tangent, throwing a lot of information at him without being clear at all. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Your soul has remained connected to only one person, the same one as your past life. Your link to one another has remained throughout all time. It is awfully strong, nothing like I have ever seen before and it is tugging really hard now.” She stared off into the distance. “I think the universe is trying to mend its mistake. It’s offering a second chance.”

“So, you’re saying that I’m going to meet a person whom my soul is supposedly connected to?”

“That is a possibility, yes.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” At this point, Bokuto’s curiosity was satisfied. All this talk about soul connections and past lives are fun and what not but they did not make any sense to him. Guess, he finally did experience the ambiguous readings, people had been talking about. Bokuto may have a child-like charm to him but he wouldn’t call himself naïve.

“But…” The woman tried to counter.

Bokuto stood up, grabbing Kuroo with him, the latter almost falling over from the sudden movement. “Well it has been nice but we have to go now. Thanks!” Without looking back, he rushed Kuroo and himself away from the tent and back into the noisy carnival alley, leaving the lady no chance to explain further.

▫ ▫ ▫

Bokuto arrived at his home by 11 in the evening. His feet were killing him so he wanted nothing more than to jump in bed and sleep for hours on end. As he was doing his nighttime routine, a ping was heard from his phone.

From: Kuroo (My Bro)

thanks for the time, bo.

To: Kuroo (My Bro)

sure thing!!!

From: Kuroo (My Bro)

do you really not believe in the reading that lady gave you?

To: Kuroo (My Bro)

not rlly? ://

it just seemed unrealistic

y?? do u believe in it? XD

From: Kuroo (My Bro)

IDK too to be honest

was just curious

and ew why would you use “XD” it’s 2019

To: Kuroo (My Bro)

wtvr h8r…

From: Kuroo (My Bro)

The way you text is atrocious

anyways, good night!

To: Kuroo (My Bro)

:ppp

good nite to u and kenma!!

With a final text to his best friend, Bokuto clicked his phone off and gingerly placed it on the bed side table. He made himself comfortable under the covers and closed his eyes, ready to finally get a good night’s rest.

▫ ▫ ▫

_Hard and heavy puffs of breath filled the courtyard. Metal katanas clashed against each other in a fierce battle of dominance. As Bokuto made a few step backwards, effectively avoiding his sensei, he could feel his perspiration quickly making its way from his temple down to his chest. It was a humid summer night beating down unbearably on him. Bokuto’s kimono was starting to weigh a hundred pounds heavier. He prayed under his breath for this sparring session to finally end._

_Gripping his sword tightly, he charged forward with an aim to beat his teacher. The man, despite his old age, was able to defend against Bokuto’s relentless attacks. Left and right, their katanas went, metal against metal – no one wanting to back down. It was not until his sensei made a misstep that Bokuto was able to grab an opportunity and slashed the former’s sword away from his grip. Bokuto grinned triumphantly, the metal blade perched precariously on top his teacher’s neck._

_“I win, sensei.” He announced gleefully, no hint of boastfulness in his voice._

_The old man merely smiled; pride clear in his eyes over his student’s talent. “Well done, Koutarou. Every time I battle you, you only get stronger and better.”_

_Bokuto grabbed the sensei’s hand and hoisted him up, the latter grunting as he did so. “It’s only because I learned from the best.” At this, the old man rolled his eyes at him. “But it’s true, sensei!” He yelled. “You’ve taught me since I was a little child so everything I know is from you.”_

_“Regardless, it takes someone with innate skill to be able to wield the sword in the way that you do. You are an honorable and gifted child Koutarou, the Bokuto clan is lucky to have you.” His sensei countered. The two of them fostered an immense respect for one another and had a close teacher-student relationship. This stemmed from their many years of working together. The sensei saw Bokuto since his childhood years and had been part of many events in his life. Now, his teacher was old and graying yet his passion still raged much like when he was younger._

_A warm feeling spread throughout Bokuto from his teacher’s praises. “Thank you, sensei.” He said as he bowed towards him._

_The two men began walking back towards the house, their katanas sheathed under their obis. “Where is your father now, Koutarou?”_

_“He’s in Kyoto. They called for a meeting with all the daimyos. He left yesterday.”_

_The sensei looked at him with a curious face. “What for?”_

_“Well…” Bokuto hummed under his breath. “I think it’s just to discuss the tax collecting in the provinces. Though, I did hear that there was an issue in the southern region because the Hojo clan began an insurrection. The shogun is furious so who knows what he’s going to talk about with them.”_

_They passed the small pond in the manor, its waters still and pristine. The greenery around it had begun to grow longer, Bokuto made a mental note to ask the help to clean it soon. “These truly are trying times, Koutarou. Ever since the Ashikaga clan went into power, more and more daimyos have been rebelling. Japan is now fractured.”_

_Bokuto nodded in agreement. “It is unfortunate. It worries Oto-san too which is why he has reinforced the training of the samurais here in Shimosa.”_

_“I do not have any doubts that the Bokuto clan can keep the Shimosa province safe.” His sensei remarked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “With a fine swordsman, such as yourself, leading the pack, you’ll continue to have many victories.”_

_Bokuto smiled at the amount of trust his sensei put in him. It was not an easy task to be the leader of the samurais in their province but his father already had a vision for him and made him train when he was five years old. He had no choice but to live up to the expectation. Bokuto had spent years on end, training and learning the way of the sword. All the blood, sweat, and tears he had shed turned him into the man he was today and aided him in making their clan’s samurais to be sought after._

_Though with every victory also came losses. Wars were bitter and did nothing but take. The soldiers whom Bokuto considered to be his friends sometimes didn’t come home. No matter how many times it happened, it never got easier, never got lighter. Each life lost was proof of how heavy their burden was. Being a soldier granted him fame and glory yet it asked for a huge price._

_They finally reached the gates of the compound, the doors massive and its handles adorned with owls, a symbol of their clan. “Well, I shall be off now. It was nice seeing you, Koutarou.”_

_“Likewise, sensei. Have a safe trip.” He bowed in farewell and watched as the old man mounted his horse and rode further and further away until he was nothing but a small speck._

_Just as Bokuto was about to enter the house again, a carriage stopped right int front of him. The person manning the horse was someone he did not recognize as one of their servants so he wondered what brought about the presence. Stepping down from the carriage, the horseman bowed to him before speaking. _

_“Bokuto-sama, pardon the intrusion but Tayu-Oiran is here to see you this evening.” He opened the doors to reveal a tall woman in a black kimono with a gold-patterned obi tied around her waist. Her hair was in a datehyougo style, the kanzashi, a bright gold that matched her dress. She had skin as pale as snow with her cheeks and lips showing a lovely blush color. As she stepped down the carriage, she exuded the utmost grace and poise of a woman of her class._

_“Good evening, Bokuto-sama” She greeted while bowing, her voice velvety and timid._

_“Good evening to you too, Tayu-Oiran. What brings you here to our compound?”_

_She gingerly clasped her hands together. “Our house offers you many thanks for that time when Yoshiwara was attacked. We do not know where we would be if you had not come to rescue us.”_

_Bokuto smiled at her. “It was nothing really. I was just doing what was asked of me.”_

_“We are still very grateful. As a symbol of our thanks, we have decided to give you a gift. It is the reason why I came here.” As she said that, the carriage door opened once more and a young boy stepped out. He had dark coal hair and eyes that resembled the deep ocean. He was wearing a white kimono and seemed to be trembling, his eyes remaining downcast and holding back tears. By the looks of it, he was around the same age as Bokuto._

_One thing was for sure._

_He was utterly beautiful._

_The oiran placed a hand over the young boy’s shoulder. “His name is Akaashi Keiji. We hope he can be of service to you and your clan.”_

_“I…” Bokuto was at a loss for words. This was the first time he ever experienced being given someone as a gift. What was the protocol? Did this Akaashi person agree to this? “I don’t think I…”_

_Tayu rested her palm on his knuckles for reassurance. “I assure you, it’s alright Bokuto-sama.” She urged Akaashi forward, the latter’s steps heavy on the dusty ground. “I shall leave him in your care.”_

_“Wait!” He called. “Would you care for some tea? I would like to invite you inside first.”_

_“I don’t want to take too much of your time Bokuto-sama but thank you for the offer.” She said graciously as she climbed back up the carriage. “I shall take my leave now. Have a wonderful night.”_

▫ ▫ ▫

_Akaashi followed Bokuto inside the compound without a word. The croaking of the crickets and the occasional fluttering of bird wings provided the conversation that they could not have. Bokuto was unsure about how honest this whole arrangement was and he did not like the idea that Akaashi was a “gift” for him. How could he even talk to him? It seemed impossible._

_Soon, they reached Bokuto’s quarters and the atmosphere was more awkward than ever. Bokuto slid the door open to reveal a living room area, the torch illuminating the whole space._

_“Take a seat.” Bokuto offered as he made himself comfortable on the other side._

_Akaashi slowly sat himself down, his posture straight and his hands clenched in fists. His eyes still locked themselves onto the floor, unable to look at Bokuto. Nervous energy radiated off of him in waves._

_Bokuto scratched his neck as he tried to find the right words to say. “I hope…you’re not scared of me.”_

_Silence._

_“Listen…” He began again. “I want you to feel comfortable around here. I also don’t want you to think that it’s necessary for you to please me just because Tayu said you were a gift to me. I don’t like that. Is that alright?”_

_Still maintaining the same position, Akaashi nodded._

_“Your name is Akaashi right?”_

_Another nod._

_“How old are you?”_

_There was a bout of silence before Akaashi answered. “Twenty-three.”_

_Bokuto’s eyes lit up at this. “That’s great! We’re around the same age! I’m twenty-four!”_

_Akaashi was startled by the friendly demeanor that the young master had with him and he chose not to say anything. Everything was still pretty overwhelming._

_“Were you originally from Yoshiwara?”_

_A small shake of the head._

_Bokuto cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Then how did you know Tayu-oiran?”_

_Akaashi made himself smaller at this question, his shoulders bunched and lips bit between his teeth. Only the howl of the wind answered Bokuto._

_“You don’t want to answer? That’s alright.” Bokuto said. “You must be tired from the travel Akaashi, I’ll take you to your quarters now.”_

_With that, the two men got up, Bokuto leading the way and Akaashi trailing closely behind him._

_The young master would keep this only to himself but he definitely found Akaashi alluring._

▫ ▫ ▫

Bokuto woke up with a groan. His joints screamed in agony from being kept in the same position all night. He opened his eyes blearily, soft tufts dancing in his vision. As he sat down in his bed, surrounded by his fluffy white sheets, he thought of his dream last night.

Usually, Bokuto’s dreams were out of this world and never made sense. In other instances, they would be based off something in his real life but some facts would be incorrect such as a building’s design or his friend’s hair color.

The one from last night though, felt awfully real.

It was as if he lived in it.

Bokuto shook the thoughts away from his mind. He was probably overthinking it. Dreams were products of the unconscious portions of the brain. It would be a waste to analyze it too much.

He probably wouldn’t dream of that again.

Right?

Paying it no more mind, Bokuto began preparing for work.

▫ ▫ ▫

_It took some time before Akaashi was able to fully settle in the Bokuto compound. The night when he first got there, Bokuto left him in the care of the head servant and the young master had not seen him since then. The head servant was a nice old lady, named Amano-san, who spoke in a very soft voice. She taught Akaashi the ins and outs of the compound as well as what he could do to help. Amano-san was patient with him and showed him only meek smiles whenever he messed something up. _

_During those times, Bokuto had been busy with patrolling Shimosa because rumors spread that it was going to be attacked. Not wanting to risk the safety of the villagers, the samurais constantly swept the villages._

_It was only after three weeks that Bokuto and Akaashi were able to see each other again._

_Amano-san had asked Akaashi to trim the grasses by the pond so the younger set to it immediately. Coming home from duty, the young master noticed the raven-haired male hunched over by the side of the water. Bokuto made his way over to him, all with the enthusiasm of a young child._

_“Hello, Akaashi-san!” He greeted, albeit too loudly._

_Akaashi flinched at the loud voice and dropped the weeds he had been pulling out. He looked behind him to see the young master grinning widely in his direction. “Hello, Bokuto-sama. I’m glad you’ve come home safe.” He responded. This was a complete 360 from the many nights ago when he could only mutter one word towards the young master._

_An expression of delight marred Bokuto’s face when he realized that Akaashi had answered him. “Akaashi, can you not call me ‘sama’?”_

_Akaashi raised an eyebrow at him. “But everyone else calls you that.”_

_He pouted. “We’re only around the same age though.”_

_“Hmm…” Akaashi pondered for a bit, now completely distracted from his work. “Would Bokuto-san be alright, then?”_

_“That’s perfect!” _

_Akaashi offered him a small tight-lipped smile and somehow, it made Bokuto’s breath hitch._

▫ ▫ ▫

It had been two days since Bokuto started having those life-like dreams. The setting had not changed one bit and he was the same young master in both instances. That Akaashi person also kept appearing and he could not help the warm feeling that spread through his body when he thought of him.

It was all so unusual.

He walked inside the museum office with a coffee in hand, a solemn look on his face. He could not stop pondering about those dreams and what they could possibly mean. Another part of his brain was also relating it with his experience back in the carnival. All of this began after he got that reading from the mysterious lady. Could his mind be playing tricks on him? Should he go back to the carnival and ask that woman what was going on with him?

“Why do you look like you’re constipated?”

Bokuto lifted his head up to see a judgmental Kuroo in front him. His best friend had one hand attached to his waist and a raised eyebrow. Kuroo appeared like a giant from where he was seated.

Choosing to ignore the other’s question, Bokuto asked. “Have you ever had a dream that seemed real?”

It took a short while for Kuroo to answer. “Most dreams seem real, Bo.”

“No…like,” He put his coffee down on the table, not wanting it to spill over. “Real-real, you know. Not only that but they occur in the same setting and it’s like one continuous story.”

“Why? Has it been happening to you?”

“Yeah.”

Kuroo placed a hand on his chin, trying to contemplate. “Maybe you’ve seen that place before and your mind is just trying to piece a puzzle together?” He offered.

Bokuto shook his head. “No, that can’t be it. I haven’t seen the place ever in my life.” He suddenly started talking more animatedly. “And it’s so different from my normal dreams Kuroo because they feel real, like it has happened before.”

“Huh…” Kuroo mused. “I’m sorry but I don’t really know what to tell you, Bo.”

Bokuto frowned, his eyebrows scrunching up together. “Can you come with me to that purple tent we went to in the carnival?”

“Why?”

“I think what’s going on with me has got something to do with our visit to that lady.”

Kuroo folded his arms together. “But the carnival has already left.”

Suddenly, Bokuto’s mission to get answers crumbled to pieces. If that woman was gone, then who else could give him answers?

His best friend offered him a consoling pat to the back. “Hey.” Kuroo started, his voice gentle. “Maybe it isn’t that big of a deal. Those dreams might just be a two-time thing and won’t happen again, yeah? Don’t worry about it too much.”

“Yeah…” Bokuto responded. However, he could not find himself believing in Kuroo’s words.

“Anyways, you should go to the other room, we got some new artifacts today and I want to look over them with you in case they might need some fixing.” Kuroo told him earnestly. His best friend was one of the archivists in the National Museum and it was part a part of his job to collect pieces for their collections. Whenever he scored a buy, he and Bokuto would look at the items together because Kuroo wanted someone to share the experience with him.

Sighing, Bokuto followed suit, chugging the remaining of his coffee as he did so.

When they got into the other room, there were two scrolls on the table. From first glance, they looked awfully yellow, a sign of their age, and the edges had begun to crumble. Kuroo was vibrating with excitement, much like he always did whenever new artifacts arrived. This was one of the simple joys of their museum jobs.

“You want to open the other one?” Kuroo asked and who was Bokuto to even say no? He grabbed one off the table, his hands careful not to apply too much pressure. Crinkling noises were heard as he slowly unfolded the scroll, the paper almost demanding not to be moved.

What revealed itself was something that froze Bokuto on the spot. Mouth agape, words failed him as the shock consumed his whole system. He blinked multiple times just to convince himself that he was not just seeing things.

It was a painting of a father and a son, the two men regal and robust. The absurd thing was that Bokuto looked like the portrait of the son. From the white and black hair down to the face – an exact carbon copy.

“K-Kuroo…” Bokuto called, his voice shaking. “Can I see what you’ve got there?”

As if the painting in his hands was not enough to leave his mind in shambles, the artifact in Kuroo’s hands succeeded in adding more to that.

It was a drawing of a huge compound.

Not just any compound.

It was the one that Bokuto was seeing in his dreams.

“No way.” Bokuto muttered under his breath. “Is my mind playing tricks on me right now?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Kuroo asked, concerned with his friend’s sudden reactions.

Bokuto lifted the painting he was holding next to himself. “Tell me that this…” He pointed to the son. “Doesn’t look like me.”

Realization dawned on Kuroo’s face, his eyes going as wide as saucers. “Bo, what the fuck?”

“And that…” He referred to the drawing in Kuroo’s hands. “Is the place I’ve been seeing in my dreams.”

“Are you serious?!”

“Why would I be joking, Kuroo?!”

“Okay…Okay…” Kuroo said, stretching his arms out to try and calm both of them down. I’ll look at what the information sheet says.” He made his way to grab the clipboard, flipping a few pages before finally finding the one he needed. “It says here that both pieces were made during the Ashikaga period in the Shimosa Province.” Kuroo paused for a while as he continued reading the information. “Holy shit…”

“What?” Bokuto asked, equally on edge.

He quickly read the citations. “The drawing is an illustration of the compound of the Bokuto clan and the persons in the painting are Bokuto Haruto and…” Kuroo’s voice grew into a whisper, indicating his surprise. “Bokuto Koutarou.”

“What the hell…”

▫ ▫ ▫

_More and more Bokuto found himself seeking Akaashi’s company. The raven-haired man had many charming qualities to him that drew Bokuto in. For one, he was a good listener, the young master never having qualms when sharing to him. At times, Akaashi would also contribute a few anecdotes of his own, his voice smooth and deep while talking about his time in Yoshiwara. The time they spent together was easy and it was nice –it gave Bokuto a break from all the responsibility he was bestowed with at such a young age._

_Like a flower in the spring, their friendship bloomed. _

_Maybe he was just fond of Akaashi because he never had a younger sibling to play with. The compound always felt too large and lonely for him. He longed for a companion._

_Or who knew? Maybe this was something more._

_Tonight, Bokuto invited Akaashi for a round of drinks. The latter kindly accepted the offer and arrived on time at the young master’s quarters. He wore his white kimono that made him look like an ethereal spirit from the heavens._

_They sat opposite from each other, Akaashi still sitting prim and proper while Bokuto already had one knee up, his posture a mess. Two bottles of sake had been emptied, the gourds all toppled down next to their table._

_“Kaashi!” Bokuto called out, slamming his cup. “Tell me all about yourself.”_

_Akaashi giggled, the sound raspy and sweet. Bokuto thought to himself how much he wanted to hear the other laugh all the time. “You already know a lot about me, Bokuto-san.”_

_“I know stuff about you now.” He emphasized. “But I want to know stuff about you from before.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“No! No!” Bokuto was quick to take it back. “You are not obliged to tell me if you are uncomfortable. I was merely curious. I’m sorry if I was being nosy.”_

_“Not at all.” Akaashi countered. “I was just surprised. I don’t like talking about some aspects of my life but…” He paused. “I trust you, Bokuto-san.”_

_A warm feeling spread throughout Bokuto’s veins from the raven-haired man’s words. Though, the sake could be partly to blame for the unusual sensation._

_Akaashi took a drink from his cup, a boost of liquid courage, before beginning his story. “As I’ve mentioned back then, I wasn’t originally from Yoshiwara. I actually grew up in the Yorii village and we were poor but I guess that was alright. We farmed for a living._

_Bokuto nodded, acknowledging Akaashi’s words and encouraging the latter to continue._

_“Then, suddenly, out of the blue, my father left me and my mother. We just woke up one day and he was gone.” Akaashi breathed deeply. “It was difficult to keep tilling the land without my father so we moved away. Oka-san and I found ourselves in Yoshiwara.”_

_Akaashi poured himself another cup of the liquor as he tried to figure out how to continue his story. All the while, Bokuto kept mum, not wanting to disturb the other. “My mother worked under courtesans, in brothels. She did all kinds of jobs. She told me that as long as we had each other, she would keep fighting.”_

_The raven-haired suddenly looked sad, his eyes downcast and near tears. The heavy tension in the room was palpable, it felt as if one movement could be the needle to prick the bubble and make everything burst. “But then…” Akaashi began again. “Perhaps, she got tired. It must had been too much for her. She hung herself in one of the brothel rooms. She asked me to get water from the well so she could clean but when I came back, I saw her lifeless body midair. It was the scariest sight in my entire life.”_

_“Oh, Akaashi” Bokuto muttered._

_Akaashi was holding back his tears, his eyes starting to get bloodshot. Curled fists latched onto his kimono, leaving it all scrunched. “The courtesan of that house got absolutely angry. She was yelling about how we dirtied her business space. I can’t remember anything else but her slapping me and kicking me out onto the streets.”_

_He downed his sake in one go, coughing lightly afterwards. “That was when I started going from brothel to brothel, trying to find work. However, I could never stay in one place because I kept getting fired. Maybe it was because I could not rack up customers like the others or I kept messing up – I was pretty useless.”_

_“No, don’t say that.” Bokuto whispered, his mouth set in a frown._

_“Then, I arrived at Tayu-oiran’s house and it was okay but I wronged one of her wealthy customers. Naturally, after beating me up, she said that I had no purpose so it would be better if I were to be taken out of Yoshiwara and given as a gift.” A sad smile appeared on his face. “I told to myself, how bad could it be? There was also no use arguing because it would happen anyway.”_

_Akaashi looked at Bokuto, his eyes blank and dark. “Now, here I am.”_

_The young master wasted no time in rushing to the raven-haired’s side and engulfing him in a tight hug. His heart wept for Akaashi who had gone through so much pain. How could the universe do this to someone so lovely and kind? It was unfair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”_

_Akaashi placed a hand on Bokuto’s shoulder. The young master could not see it but there was a gentle smile on the raven-haired’s face. “None of that was your fault so there is no need to apologize, Bokuto-san. My life is but a series of unfortunate events.”_

_Bokuto shook his head. “It’s not.” He pulled himself back and stared at Akaashi right in the eye. “It’s not. There was reason that you were given here. Now that you’re under my care, I’m going to make sure that you never have to go through something like that ever again.”_

_“Bokuto-san.”_

_“I care about the people in this compound and I never want to see anyone hurt. I promise to keep you safe.” The way Bokuto looked at Akaashi was so different, a strong resolve lit up in him. He would protect everyone to the best of his ability._

_Akaashi was nothing but at a loss for words. The kept back tears finally fell and he dropped towards Bokuto’s knees. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”_

▫ ▫ ▫

Bokuto was crying. He got up from his bed with his face all wet. He remembered the dream and what Akaashi said to him in it. Who was Akaashi and why did he have such a sad story? Why did Bokuto’s heart feel like it was being squeezed to death?

He rubbed at his temple, signs of a headache beginning to show. Bokuto reached for his phone, the mobile device swamped under his sheets. He was surprised to see 16 missed calls and 8 messages from Kuroo. He decided to call back.

The call did not even reach a third ring when the line picked up and he was greeted with “Where the fuck are you Bokuto Koutarou?!” by his best friend.

Bokuto winced at the loud voice. “Home.”

“What do you mean home?! Did you know that I had to cover for you and think of some bullshit excuse as to why you suddenly ran away?”

That was right. After he and Kuroo looked at the artifacts and Bokuto saw an exact replica of himself as well as the place he had been seeing in his dreams, he panicked and ran away. Kuroo chased after him but Bokuto was too fast. All he could remember was a ringing in his ears and a thought that he had to go home. When he did finally reach his house, he laid in bed, trying to gather his thoughts before falling asleep in the end.

“Just…home.”

“Wait.” Kuroo mellowed out a bit. “Are you crying?”

Bokuto combed a hand through his hair. “I…yes…I don’t know.”

“Bo, what’s going on?”

Oh, how he wished he could answer that. “I really don’t know. I had another dream again, Kuroo. It was the same place. They’ve all been different events but they all occur in the same setting and period.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And there’s this one person that keeps on appearing in it.”

There was some muffled noises heard over the phone. “After what we just saw today, I believe you and I don’t think all of these are just coincidences.”

“You don’t?” Bokuto asked, surprised by his best friend now taking him seriously.

Kuroo hummed in confirmation. “I’ve mulled over it a bit. You said that this could be related to that time we went to the carnival, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Kuroo began. “Didn’t that lady tell you about past lives and meeting someone?”

“What about it?”

“This is just my guess but what if the dreams you’ve been having are actually memories?” Kuroo offered. “And now that you’ve mentioned seeing one person over and over again, the memories might help lead you to them?”

Bokuto thought it over. It did make sense even though it sounded awfully nonsensical. “But is it even possible to have the same memories as your past life?”

“Maybe? I’m also not sure, Bo. I’ m just guessing.”

“Okay, okay.” Bokuto answered. “Thanks, Kuroo.”

The call ended with a click and Bokuto threw his phone to the side. He was still a mess as he tried to figure out the things that were happening. Suddenly, his mind started drifting again towards the thought of Akaashi. Bokuto knew nothing of him except that he had a sad past and he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Was he real?

However, what was most surprising was the butterflies that made its way to Bokuto’s stomach at the thought of the raven-haired boy from his dreams.

▫ ▫ ▫

_The moon shone brightly on the province of Shimosa. It was big white beacon amongst the blanket of stars. Meanwhile, most of the people had already gone to slumber, the night filled with the snores of the villagers. Though, there were two figures running about, making their way across the province like a pair of troublemakers. The darkness did not deter them and only served as a cover for them to remain unseen._

_“Bokuto-san, slow down!” Akaashi panted, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. Bokuto did not heed his request and instead dragged him faster, their feet trudging heavily on the ground._

_“We’re nearly there, Akaashi!”_

_They passed by the last remaining houses and entered a clearing into the forest. Akaashi was sure that if he were here all by himself, he would get lost for all the trees looked alike. The branches crossed and towered over them, serving as nature’s fortresses. If it were not for Bokuto’s hands that were firmly clasped in his, Akaashi would be shaking in fear by now._

_Soon, they arrived at a cliff that overlooked the province. Akaashi’s eyes widened at the scenery before him. Illuminated by only the moon, Shimosa looked like a maze from where he was standing._

_“I sometimes go here to think.” Bokuto explained and sat on a huge piece of rock._

_Akaashi was stunned to silence. He merely stood there, taking in the magnificent view from the top of the world. Oftentimes, he felt so consumed by how big the world was and it was easy to lose himself. Just an infinitesimal piece in the puzzle of the universe. But now, standing here, he could pretend he was bigger than life._

_“You know…” Akaashi whispered. “I never felt like anything belonged to me it’s because anything I have gets taken away. Even my own life was spent living for others. My father, my mother, the courtesans I worked for. It’s sad, right? Not being able to take charge of your own path. Having nothing.”_

_Bokuto stood up from where he was sitting, a frown on his face. “Akaashi.”_

_“But you showed me this beautiful place that belongs to you Bokuto-san and I’m so thankful.”_

_The young master no longer wanted to hear any more deprecating words so he grabbed Akaashi by the shoulder and without a moment’s hesitation, kissed him senseless. It was warm and it was comforting. Bokuto made an impulse decision because he hated seeing and Akaashi who wasn’t smiling. At least the raven-haired wasn’t pushing him away, that was a good sign, right?_

_When the need for air came, Bokuto pulled the two of them apart. He kept his large hands on Akaashi’s face, which is stuck in a startled expressions, clearly unprepared for what had just happened._

_“It’s not just this place…” Bokuto said, his voice in harmony with the wind. “But me too…”_

_“Huh?”_

_Bokuto placed their foreheads against each other as he closed his eyes. “I belong to you, Akaashi.”_

_A floodgate of tears opened for Akaashi upon hearing Bokuto’s words. He hugged the young master close, unable to convey his feelings through words. Bokuto hugged him back, his hands firm on Akaashi’s waist._

_“I don’t want you to go.” Akaashi muttered._

_This broke Bokuto’s heart more than anything. Some of the samurais of their province had been requested to help fight the war in the Eastern part of Japan. The Bokuto clan was one of the shogun’s most trusted allies so there was no doubt that he would ask trust them in the effort against the insurrections. They had to leave tomorrow by daybreak and Bokuto had no idea how much Akaashi had been dreading it._

_“I know but I have a duty, Kaashi.”_

_Akaashi held on tighter to Bokuto’s kimono as if letting go would mean that the latter was going to disappear from him. “Then, promise me that you’ll come back.”_

_“I…”_

_“Promise me, Bokuto-san.”_

_“I promise.”_

▫ ▫ ▫

“Good morning.” Kuroo greeted.

“Morning.” Bokuto responded back to his best friend.

“How are you?” Kuroo asked, concern laced in his voice.

“Alright, I guess.” Bokuto made his way over to a vacant chair and sat himself down. “Had another dream. This time, I was going to war.”

Kuroo’s eyed widened at this. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” He took a sip of his coffee, the slurping sounds echoing throughout the whole room. “Hey Kuroo?”

“Yeah?”

“You think there’s a chance that I’m going to meet that person I see in my dreams?”

Kuroo thought this over for a moment. “I guess it’s not impossible. Why? Do you want to meet them?”

“I guess so.” Bokuto placed a palm on the side of his chin. “I feel somewhat attached to him and I don’t even know if he truly exists. Is that weird?”

Kuroo shrugged at him, his plaid jacket slipping off his other shoulder. “I don’t know what to tell you bro.”

“Yeah.” Bokuto said, his energy low.

After his conversation with Kuroo, Bokuto set out to work. He was finalizing everything on the painting he began fixing a month ago, getting it ready to finally be displayed. He spent hours inside the work room, putting all his effort on the painting to keep his mind from running. Soon, he was able to finish and the art piece looked nothing short of magnificent.

Yachi, one of his co-workers in the museum suddenly came inside. “Bokuto-san?” She called while knocking on the door.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Uhm…” She started, timidly. “There’s a group from Tokyo University that’s going to have a tour here and Azumane-san isn’t back yet. The manager asked if you could greet them and do the preliminary orientations?”

“Oh, me?” She nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be right out.”

“Great! Thanks.”

Bokuto quickly cleaned his workspace and cleaned himself up. Walking towards the entrance, he noticed a crowd of students standing idly, the sound of chitchat and camera shutters accompanying them. He leaned over to Yachi and asked where was the professor escorting the group.

When his eyes landed on the person that the short blonde was pointing to, he felt a shiver down his spine. Suddenly, his legs could no longer move and his mouth was filled with saw dust.

Standing a few meters away from him, was Akaashi.

The Akaashi from his dreams.

The Akaashi with the jet-black hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and face that was crafted by the gods.

“Y-Yacchan…” Bokuto called, already shaking from head to foot. “What’s the name of the professor?”

“Hmm?” Yacchi was clearly unaware of her co-worker’s internal panic. “I heard it was Akaashi Keiji.”

That was it. The confirmation Bokuto needed. He felt as if a bucket of cold water was dropped on him without a warning. Who would have thought that he would actually get the chance to meet his supposed soulmate? The odds were a million to one.

Yet here they were.

Getting his bearings, Bokuto whispered to Yachi. “Listen, Yacchan, I actually can’t do the greetings, I hope you’ll be okay with doing them. I really need to go now!” Without waiting for a proper response, Bokuto ran with the speed of a cheetah back inside the museum office, Yacchi’s protests following his wake.

“Did you see a ghost or something?” Kuroo asked just as Bokuto slammed the door shut. The latter was panting as he held on the doorknob, trying to make sure no one came after him.

“Might as well have.”

“What’s up with you?”

Bokuto stared at Kuroo dead in the eye. “He’s here, Kuroo.”

“Who?”

Bokuto took some time to catch his breath. “The guy from my dreams.”

At this, Kuroo’s eyes widened to the size of saucers and his jaw dropped afterwards. “Are you serious?”

Bokuto nodded. “A hundred percent.”

“Then why did you run away, moron?!”

“I don’t know! I panicked, okay!” He raised his arms up in surrender. Bokuto had never thought that this could happen so of course his first reaction was to freak out.

Kuroo slapped Bokuto on the arm, earning an “Ow! That hurt!” which he paid no mind to. “This was your chance to get to know him and you blew it!”

“What was I supposed to do?! Randomly come up to him and say, ‘Hey you don’t know me but I see you in my dreams and this one mysterious lady from a carnival said we might be soulmates.’”

Kuroo massaged his eyebrows, stressed by his best friend’s way of thinking. “Of course not. You get to know him first before you say any of that stuff to him.”

Now, Bokuto looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly.

“You go out there…” Kuroo grabbed Bokuto by the arm and took him outside the office. “…and strike up a conversation with him, charm him, and get his number.”

Bokuto still looked hesitant but his best friend had already taken him all the way outside.

“Good luck!” Kuroo yelled and Bokuto was unsure if he was being teasing or supportive.

Bokuto made his way to where the group was, feeling a bit anxious. They were in the Japanese Period exhibits and Azumane was discussing some facts to them. Bokuto immediately found Akaashi, the professor standing at the back, carefully listening to what the guide had to say.

Not wanting to shock the other too much, Bokuto began by casually looking over the museum’s displays. He noticed that Akaashi was also the admiring the same piece as him so he decided that this was his chance.

“You guys touring here?”

It took some time before Akaashi realized he was the one being spoken to. “Ah, yes.”

“What for?”

“Educational tour.”

Bokuto nodded. “I see.” He extended his hand to shake. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, by the way, I work as a conservator here.”

Akaashi grabbed his hand and shook it. “Akaashi Keiji. I teach Literature and Writing at Tokyo University.”

“Tokyo University, eh? Prestigious.”

Akaashi placed a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. Bokuto would be lying if he said that he didn’t find him cute. “I wouldn’t say, we’re all _that_, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto smiled. “Oh, how modest.”

Suddenly, the group started moving and the two of them trailed closely behind.

Akaashi placed his hands in his coat pocket. He was wearing something very chic. A coffee-colored coat and turtleneck matched his dark ankle trousers and brown loafers. Bokuto felt underdressed in his white polo and black slacks.

“So…” Akaashi started. “What does a conservator do?”

“Well, I conserve art.” Bokuto joked, chuckling at himself afterwards. “But no, seriously, artifacts sometimes come here and when they aren’t stored properly, they sustain a lot of damage. It’s my job to fix them, basically.”

“Sounds painstaking.”

“It is.” He pointed to a woodblock print in front of them. “Like that for example, it took us months to finish.”

“Wow.” Akaashi muttered. “That’s admirable.”

“Thanks.” He turned to face Akaashi. “What about you? What’s your job like?”

Akaashi waved a hand at him. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to hear about mine. It’s not as interesting.”

“Don’t say that!” Bokuto opposed. “Any job is interesting!”

“Alright.” Akaashi said, his cheeks flushed pink from Bokuto’s enthusiasm. “I teach literature and writing so most of my days are spent inside the classroom. I had my students go on this trip so we could get inspiration as well as foster a sense of appreciation for traditional Japanese arts.” He looked over to Bokuto. “See? Boring.”

“Not at all!” Bokuto whisper-yelled with his hands all animated. “You’re doing the most to make your students learn. Not everyone has that same passion. You should be proud.”

Akaashi blushed all the more. “Thank you, Bokuto-san.”

They spent the rest of the tour like that, chatting about some of the displays in the museum and Akaashi would connect it to literature at some point. Bokuto enjoyed it since the professor was clearly intelligent and made for interesting conversation. In some instances, he would share about how some pieces were conserved and what were the most tiring steps in the whole process. They had already seemed like the best of friends even though they just met.

The tour ended at the gift shop with the students milling about, looking at the shirts and trinkets. Bokuto and Akaashi were off to one side, waiting for them to be finished.

“It was really nice talking to you, Bokuto-san.”

“I enjoyed our time together, too.” Bokuto scratched the back of his neck and chuckled a bit. “Uhm, Akaashi…Is it alright if I get your number?”

A look of surprise splashed on Akaashi’s face but it was soon replaced with a grin. “Of course.” He quickly typed his number in Bokuto’s phone and returned it. “Text me so I have yours.”

“Yeah, sure.” Bokuto said, clicking his phone off. “Guess, I’ll see you around?”

“Yep.”

“Bye.”

To: Akaashi

HELLO AKAASHI !!!

it’s me bokuto from the museum! hope u didn’t forget

u told me 2 text u so here i am :D

From: Akaashi

Hello, Bokuto-san.

Yes of course I remember you.

Thank you for texting me.

▫ ▫ ▫

Since their meeting in the museum, Bokuto and Akaashi spent the following days texting each other. They shared random facts about their day and the occasional jokes. At first, Bokuto was wondering whether or not he should text Akaashi. What if the latter found him annoying? What if he was being too forward? All these thoughts riddled his brain.

However, he decided to just go through with it and text a simple “good morning!” and their conversation flowed from there.

Bokuto started knowing bits and pieces about Akaashi. He found out how the professor preferred tea, how he loved mornings, and how he had a knack for poetry. All these things, Bokuto kept in mind.

Despite all this, his dreams continued, memories of his past life a standard of the night. How would he even approach this subject to Akaashi? Did the other experience something similar too? It was a difficult situation to be aware yet also be in the dark at the same time.

Nevertheless, Bokuto looked forward to spending more time with Akaashi. An opportunity arrived one Saturday night when the professor invited him to a café that had a spoken word poetry night.

Bokuto arrived early, not wanting to make a bad impression. He made an effort to dress well and it may or may not have been because he was threatened by Akaashi’s sense of style. He wore a burgundy long-sleeved polo, the cloth like rich wine, matched with black slacks that hugged him in all the right places. He tapped his foot as he waited for his date, trying to make standing all by himself as less awkward as possible.

“Hi! Sorry, I’m late.” A smooth voice greeted and Bokuto turned to see Akaashi looking sheepishly at him.

“No! Don’t worry.” Bokuto said reassuringly. “I just got here too.”

“Should we go inside?”

Bokuto nodded and they proceeded to enter the café. They chose a cute little spot at the back and near the glass windows, very aesthetic if you asked them. A tarpaulin sign had the words “Spoken Word Poetry Night” typed in bold and was placed in the center stage area. The workers were milling about trying to set the area for the performers.

Bokuto was observing them as he and Akaashi made their way to order some drinks. “I’ve never been to these kinds of things before.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Bokuto affirmed all the while looking at the chalkboard menu to try and figure out what he should order. “Never really got the chance.”

“Well, now you have.”

Bokuto decided to go with a java chip frappuccino while Akaashi, being the tea lover that he was, ordered the matcha green tea. They paid for their orders and went back to the spot they reserved. Just as they sat down, the program began, a man wearing thick glasses and a mismatched tie, welcoming them all to the event.

“My friend is performing tonight.” Akaashi shared, tapping his nails on the dark oak table.

“Is that so?” Bokuto asked. “What about you?”

Akaashi shook his head, his hair lightly going with the movement. “It’s not really for me. It’s intimidating to be in front of all those people.”

At this, Bokuto raised an eyebrow at him, a playful grin going along with it. “I thought you were a professor. How is this any different?”

“Well…” Akaashi contemplated a bit. “When you teach, there’s a structure. You follow the curriculum guide and you relay it to the students. Meanwhile, this...” He made a circular motion with his hand. “…is more vulnerable. Yes, I write poetry but that work belongs to me and I don’t think I’m ready to share it with everyone yet.”

Bokuto’s ears rang at Akaashi’s last sentence. It was crazy how the present Akaashi retained some of the characteristics of his past self. He still treasured the things that belonged to him and he wanted to take charge of the own pace of his life.

“I see.” Bokuto said. “I understand your apprehension though because humans can be judgmental pricks too.”

“Bokuto-san, are you saying that you’re going to judge me for my spoken word, if ever given the chance?” Akaashi asked, teasingly.

Bokuto raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I didn’t say that and frankly, I would be a poor critic because the most I know about spoken word is the Cynthia poetry.”

“Is that a 22 Jump Street Reference?”

Bokuto then proceeded to make a terrible impression of Schmidt from the aforementioned movie. Akaashi could not hold his laughter because of how ridiculous the other was acting. They only stopped messing around when their drinks finally arrived, the waiter a bit jarred from all the raucous they were making.

Bokuto then pulled out his phone and started taking pictures of his drink, playing with different angles to get the lighting right.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking pictures for Instagram.” Suddenly, a bright idea popped in Bokuto’s mind. “Can I take pictures of you, Akaashi?”

The other looked at him with wild eyes, hesitation clear in them. His cheeks also began to heat up.

“Come on! You’re really pretty.” At Bokuto’s blunt words, Akaashi flushed a deeper shade of red.

“If you insist.” He finally relented and Bokuto started snapping away, the camera shutter going off too many times. Akaashi didn’t need to do too much really, he was already very photogenic so it made the job easier. When Bokuto was satisfied, he turned his phone off and slipped it back to his pocket.

“Oh, it’s my friend’s turn.” They focused their attention the center stage where a tall man with brown wisps of hair, stood in front of the microphone. He was definitely eye-catching but to Bokuto, Akaashi was the prettiest.

The brown-haired man was very into his piece. He took the concept of a children’s song and turned it into a love story. It told the tale of two boys being together since childhood and falling in love with each other.

“It’s a poem about his boyfriend.” Akaashi explained.

Bokuto hummed in affirmation. “I can tell. I like how he writes, he makes everything seem so tangible.”

There was pride written all over Akaashi’s face. One could see how much he believed in and adored his friend. “He’s a natural talent.”

When Akaashi’s friend finished, there was a series of claps from the crowd. He bowed and made his way to the side.

“Come on.” Akaashi urged, grabbing Bokuto by the wrist. “I wanna go over to him.”

When they reached the brown-haired poet, he immediately recognized Akaashi, a bright grin taking over his face. “Akaashi! You came!” The man yelled and proceeded to engulf Akaashi in a very tight hug.

“I wouldn’t miss it, Oikawa-san.”

“Oh?” Oikawa suddenly removed himself from their embrace. “Who’s this?” He asked, making his way towards Bokuto.

“Hi! I’m Bokuto Koutarou.” Bokuto introduced himself, extending his hand for Oikawa to shake.

“Oikawa Tooru.” The brown-haired poet shook his hand amicably. “I see my precious Keiji is out on a date.”

Bokuto chuckled at this. “Well yeah. By the way, I really liked your performance.”

Oikawa placed a hand over his chest, having the flair for some dramatics. “I’m honored.”

“Is Iwaizumi-san here?” Akaashi suddenly chimed in.

“Yes, and I am yet to know of his reaction because I kept this a secret from him.” He winked at Akaashi. “Anyways, I have to go. See you.”

The two of them waved at Oikawa, watching him as he disappeared into the crowd.

“He’s nice.” Bokuto remarked.

Akaashi chuckled. “Do you want to stay or?”

Bokuto grabbed Akaashi by the hand. “I think it’ll be nice to take a short walk.”

When they stepped outside, they noticed that there was a light drizzle. The smell of the rain was strong, earthy tones filling their senses. Akaashi reached out to his backpack to grab his umbrella. Before he could even open it, Bokuto took it from his hands. “Here let me.”

Despite the rain, Tokyo remained vibrant. Umbrellas, some light, some big, occupied their field of vision. The sound of their conversation was muted by the splash of wet tires and the strides of people.

“Do you live nearby?” Bokuto asked, keeping his hand steady as he held the umbrella to cover both of them.

“Yeah. About two more blocks from here.”

“I’ll take you home, then.”

The rest of their walk was filled with silence. It wasn’t because they ran out of things to talk about but it was just nice to relish in each other’s company. Without noticing, Bokuto had actually kept a firm arm around Akaashi’s waist, trying to keep him from getting rained on.

Soon, they arrived at a condominium building. It emitted a soft yellow glow from the reception area, lighting up the pathways in front of them.

“You can drop me off here.” Akaashi said, teetering on the tip of his toes. “I had a lot of fun tonight, Bokuto-san.” Then, he leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Bokuto’s cheek. “Bye.”

“Bye.” Bokuto replied in a daze, a hand clasped over his cheek.

▫ ▫ ▫

_Heavy. Everything felt heavy._

_It was getting hard to breathe but Bokuto felt determined to get home. The war in the East had lasted about three months and they were all exhausted to the core. It was a gruesome battle, much like any other, filled with the stench of death and misery. They returned with a lesser number of people than the beginning. It was a common feature of post-battle but it left them feeling empty._

_Even Bokuto thought that it would become his last battle. They had gotten overpowered suddenly, a wave of enemies attacking them from the frontlines. If back-up did not arrive immediately then they would have been sure goners. It was a scary thought to think about._

_What kept Bokuto running all those months was Akaashi. He had promised the latter that he would come back and with every battle, he thought of fulfilling that promise. He was a man of integrity and never backed down on his word. Each passing day, he worried. He worried about how long the war would last or if Akaashi was alright._

_When the enemies finally surrendered, a weight was lifted off the young master’s shoulders. He could finally come home._

_The gates of the Bokuto compound greeted him and he urged his horse to go faster. There was already a servant waiting at the opened doors, ready to assist him, but he paid no mind. He quickly dismounted and ran like his life depended on it. A twist, a turn, and past the other servants’ rooms—just to get to a certain raven-haired’s quarters._

_He had not even reached his destination yet when a body crashed right into him._

_It was Akaashi, hugging him with so much devotion and longing. He could hear the sobs from the raven-haired and he wanted nothing more than to stop it. _

_“You’re home. You’re finally home.” Akaashi said like a prayer, as if he had to finalize it in words so that Bokuto would not disappear. “I waited so long.”_

_Bokuto held Akaashi’s face and without a moment’s hesitation, kissed him. It was hot and it was passionate and it said every word they were unable to utter to each other in the past three months. He felt Akaashi’s arms wrap around his neck and he liked the possessive feel of it. The young master kissed the raven-haired deeper, exploring the latter’s mouth with his own._

_When they finally broke apart, Bokuto smiled at him. “I promised you, didn’t I? I fulfilled it, Akaashi.”_

_Akaashi hugged him once more, still tight as ever. “Thank you for coming home safe.”_

_Bokuto squeezed the other tighter. “Of course. I belong to you, remember?”_

_“And, I, to you.”_

▫ ▫ ▫

Tonight, Bokuto asked Akaashi to go and grab some dinner with him. Fortunately, their schedules lined up for them to be able to meet. Bokuto waited in front of Tokyo University, playing a word game on his phone to kill the time.

“Hi.” Akaashi greeted. His cheeks were flushed pink from the temperature and he had a lovely smile on his face.

“Hey.” Bokuto greeted back.

Akaashi slung his arm over Bokuto’s and the two of them walked the cold Tokyo streets, looking for a place to eat.

They eventually settled for a sushi bar not that far from the university. The restaurant was a cute little place with wooden walls and numerous signs hanging from the roof.

As they ate, the two of them talked about the events of their day. Akaashi shared about Oikawa almost losing his marbles over a student which left Bokuto guffawing. On the other hand, Bokuto showed pictures to Akaashi of the current project he was working on, the latter genuinely interested in his progress.

He liked how easy their relationship was.

They decided to take a walk after they left the restaurant. This had practically become routine now. It was usually because just eating together did not provide them enough time to share all their stories. Therefore, they had to extend it a bit.

Or maybe, they just needed more excuses to spend time with each other.

One street corner had a busker on the guitar and serenading the crowd. He was playing old love songs that perfectly matched the ambiance. Interestingly, some couples were slow dancing in front of him, swaying to the sound of the music.

“You up for a dance?”

“Bokuto-san, I don’t dance.”

“Aw come on, Akaashi!” He dragged the other forward and drew him closer. “It’s easy. Just put your hand here.” Bokuto placed both of Akaashi’s arms around his neck. “Then feel the music!”

He began moving them side to side, opening and then closing his feet together. At first, Akaashi seemed mildly panicked but once he got the hang of it, he had a huge grin on his face.

“There you go!” Bokuto cheered. “Isn’t this fun?”

“It is.” Akaashi agreed. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. He liked how Bokuto’s arms circled around his waist, making him feel safe. He didn’t even mind that there were so many people around them.

“Akaashi?” Bokuto whispered, their faces awfully close to each other.

“Yeah?” Akaashi responded, his breath hitching.

“I like you. A lot.”

“I like you, too. Bokuto-san.”

▫ ▫ ▫

Bokuto was falling for Akaashi and he was falling _hard._

He believed in those dreams now and he liked waking up with a flutter to his chest because he saw his and Akaashi’s lives from the past. However, getting to spend time with the actual Akaashi in the present time was the highlight of his days because the raven-haired professor never failed to make him smile. The two of them just clicked together. With Akaashi, Bokuto felt like he could be himself and that he could be understood.

He had faith that his and Akaashi’s souls were truly connected.

Tonight, Bokuto went over to Akaashi’s house. They decided to have a more chill date. One without the need to dress up and appear in public. Bokuto knocked on the 5th door at the 10th floor and Akaashi greeted him while wearing a set of pajamas.

“I brought beer.” Bokuto announced, lifting his hand to reveal a carton of the said drinks.

“Perfect.” Akaashi remarked as he allowed Bokuto to enter. “You can place them on the coffee table in the living room.”

Akaashi’s house was just as simple as him. There weren’t a lot of loud pieces that occupied the walls. The whole place was black, white, and some shade of brown. The professor had mentioned once that he liked to be neat and efficient and that was pretty clear in his living space.

Bokuto made himself comfortable on the sofa and watched as Akaashi turned on the television. They were going to have a movie night though they were yet to decide what they wanted to watch. Akaashi pulled up Netflix and a selection of movies popped up. It was a good time for the classics so they chose White Chicks.

Normally, Bokuto could sit through a movie without batting an eye. However, Akaashi was next to him and he was a weak man so instead of paying attention to what was on screen, he decided to stare at Akaashi instead.

If looks could burn holes, Akaashi’s face would have melted by now.

“Bokuto-san, you’re not watching the movie.” Akaashi commented, turning to look at Bokuto with a chastising face.

“But Akaashi!” Bokuto whined like a child. “You’re much more interesting. I like looking at you.”

Akaashi’s rolled his eyes but the faint trace of a blush was noticeable in his cheeks. He paused the movie and turned over to Bokuto. “Fine, let’s just talk.”

Bokuto held Akaashi’s hand in his. Right now, spending time like this, made him really happy. He wanted nothing more than to continue being with Akaashi.

However, Bokuto also knew that he had to be honest. Akaashi deserved to know about the dreams and past lives, no matter how ludicrous it seemed. It was unfair if Bokuto was the only one who was aware. If he wanted to continue this relationship with Akaashi then he had to let out everything first.

“Hey, Kaashi?”

“Hm?”

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

Akaashi thought it over. “I guess the idea is appealing but it would be difficult to prove its existence.”

Bokuto massaged Akaashi’s palm as he asked his next question. “What about past lives?”

“I don’t know.” Akaashi looked at him seriously now. “Why do you ask?”

Bokuto then narrated about the time he and Kuroo went to the carnival, how the mysterious lady gave him a reading telling him that he was going to find someone from his past life. “I started having dreams after that encounter and they were all in the same setting and period. The crazy thing was, you were in all of them and this was before we even met.”

“How is that…” Akaashi trailed off.

“I thought I was just losing it but then one day, artifacts arrived in the museum.” He grabbed his phone and showed the pictures of the scrolls with the drawings of the compound and the painting. “The information behind these matched with everything I saw in my dreams. I realized that I had actually been seeing memories. All of those were things that happened in our past lives.”

Akaashi’s eyebrows scrunched up, his mouth set into a frown. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, it doesn’t.” Bokuto agreed. “Still, I wanted to tell you because you’re a part of this just as much as I am. I didn’t want to keep it a secret.”

Akaashi felt like the whole world was reeling. “This is all too much.” How could one even properly react to something like this? It was absurd. Seeing the past life? Meeting someone from the said past life? There was no sense to it. “Are you joking with me?”

“I’m not, I swear.” Bokuto said, trying to make Akaashi believe him.

“I’m so confused.” He placed a hand on his temple. All of this was overwhelming. Sure, he liked Bokuto but the idea that the latter already viewed him as a soulmate—something so much more. How could he live up being put in that pedestal?

A mess.

Everything felt like a mess.

“Maybe you should leave.”

“Akaashi.” Bokuto called and tried to grab the other’s hand. Instead, Akaashi pulled away and the look for hurt that flashed on Bokuto’s face made his heart clench.

“I just…” Akaashi breathed. “Need time to think.”

“Okay.” Bokuto stood up, dejected. “But Akaashi?” He looked so broken and in the back of Akaashi’s mind, a voice said that a look like that did not fit Bokuto. “I would never lie to you.”

Akaashi did not follow after Bokuto, he heard the door click and knew that the latter finally left. He laid down on the couch, an arm rest above his forehead. Sleep, that was what he needed right now.

Akaashi closed his eyes and let the sandman take him.

▫ ▫ ▫

_Throngs of people gathered in the square, wearing their most lavish kimonos. Lanterns decorated the streets, bringing light to the people’s paths. Loud music and the calls of merchants reverberated throughout the whole area. The Tanabata festival was in full swing and was a source of joy for the citizens._

_The main part of the festival was the writing of wishes and hanging them on the bamboo tree. Some people had already gotten to that, parchment with dark ink serving as ornaments for the bamboos that lined the alleys. There was always hope that the gods would grant their wishes._

_Bokuto and Akaashi made their way to the different stalls. Many of the citizens knew of the young master of the Bokuto clan so he was greeted wherever he went._

_“You’re quite famous, aren’t you, Bokuto-san?”_

_Bokuto laughed at him, loud and booming. “I wouldn’t put it that way.” They stopped in front of a bamboo tree that only had a few wishes hung on it. “Want to write down your wish now, Akaashi?”_

_Akaashi nodded and grabbed a piece of paper for himself and began writing. Next to him, Bokuto also earnestly wrote his own request. When the two of them finished, they hung the two pieces right next to each other._

_“What did you write?” Bokuto asked, his eyes trained on Akaashi._

_Akaashi smiled. “Happiness.” He answered with honesty, a tinge of desperation in his voice. He wanted nothing more than to keep having joy in his life._

_“That’s very simple. Sounds just like you.”_

_Akaashi turned over to Bokuto. “What about you, Bokuto-san? What did you write?”_

_Bokuto grabbed Akaashi’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. “For our love to only grow stronger.”_

_Akaashi flushed a deep scarlet at this, no matter how many times Bokuto flirted with him and admitted his affections for him, it always left him a blushing mess._

_“I belong to you.”_

_“And, I, to you.”_

▫ ▫ ▫

It had been a week since Akaashi last saw Bokuto.

And it had also been a week since he started having that reoccurring Tanabata festival dream.

At first, he thought nothing of it but as he repeatedly saw the same scene over and over again, he was starting to doubt himself. The ridiculous things was how the dream felt real. He was not just seeing but also thinking and feeling in that moment. He could vividly remember the melancholic feeling as he wished for happiness and the jump in his heart when his hand was held by Bokuto.

Bokuto. Why was he there? He looked larger than life, his lips smiling and eyes twinkling. Akaashi could not keep himself from thinking that he was a star. In that dream, Bokuto only had eyes for him and his emotions were as clear as day.

Akaashi wondered if he was losing his mind.

It was probably just his unconscious brain working. The last time Bokuto was with him, he told Akaashi things about past lives and soulmates. That information could have influenced him to dream something related to that.

And it didn’t help that he missed Bokuto.

After that night, Bokuto no longer texted him or asked him out on dates. From constant communication, it had suddenly turned silent. Akaashi was at fault too for he didn’t make an effort to reach out. He needed to think.

Or maybe he was too ashamed to contact the other after seeing that flash of hurt in his face.

He was scared, really. It was going way too fast and this was all new to him. When Bokuto implied that they were soulmates, a small part of Akaashi was elated but the fear overtook it. A sick, bitter, liquid seeped through his bones and made him believe that all of it was going to crash and burn. It would lead nowhere.

So, he pushed Bokuto away.

Akaashi shook his head, trying to get the intruding thoughts out of the way. He made his way toward the faculty lounge, greeting students along the way. When he finally reached his table in the office, he plopped himself down and sighed.

“What’s with that deep sigh so early in the morning?” Oikawa suddenly appeared, leaning on the divider that separated their nooks.

Akaashi didn’t answer and instead sighed once more.

“Did you and Bokuto-kun fight or something?”

He nodded, his head lightly banging on the table. “Oikawa-san.”

“Hm?”

“If Iwaizumi-san told you something so out-of-this world, would you believe him?”

Oikawa leaned his chin on his hands. “Well if he told me that aliens finally started to contact us, of course I would!”

“You’d believe, just like that?”

Oikawa chuckled. “I believe in aliens Akaashi so, yes and I don’t think Iwa-chan would lie to me, so again, yes.”

Akaashi pouted.

His brown-haired friend leaned closer, patting him on the head. “You know Keiji, whatever problem you have with Bokuto-kun right now. I’m sure you guys can fix it.”

“How do you know that?”

Oikawa hummed in thought. “You guys might have just recently met but I don’t know, there’s good energy between you two. You match well, just like Iwa-chan and me.” His friend winked and disappeared behind the divider.

▫ ▫ ▫

A knock.

Bokuto opened the door to see Kuroo holding up a gallon of ice cream.

“Come in.” He said with a sad voice.

“You okay, Bo?”

Bokuto shrugged as he laid down on the couch, closing his eyes.

Kuroo sat adjacent to him with a worried look on his face. “What happened with you and Akaashi?”

A sigh. “I told him the truth. He got scared.”

“So that’s that?” Kuroo asked. “You’re not going to do anything?”

Bokuto faced Kuroo with a frown. “He probably thinks I’m crazy and doesn’t want to hear from me anymore.” It hurt saying that out loud.

When he had gotten home after Akaashi kicked him out, Bokuto cried until he fell asleep. He was sad and miserable. The slimy feeling of regret and insecurity, consumed him, making him question himself. As the days started to pile up, he tried to let work distract him but it could only do so much.

Most of all, he missed Akaashi and he wanted to talk, to patch things up if they could but at the same time, he knew that the other needed space. If Akaashi didn’t want to contact him then Bokuto would respect that decision.

It was stupid of him to think that things could go smoothly.

“You don’t know that.”

“And you do?”

Kuroo rubbed his face with his palm. “Listen. Akaashi probably had his reasons for reacting that way but it doesn’t mean that you should just give up.”

Bokuto shrugged, no longer having the energy to argue.

Kuroo leaned closer, placing a comforting hand on Bokuto’s leg. “Let’s binge on ice cream and anime, yeah? Maybe that’ll make you feel a little better.”

“Sure.”

“He’ll come around, Bo.”

“I hope so.”

▫ ▫ ▫

The National Library was a desert town at this time of the night. The smell of archived books filled the room like a fragrance and the yellow lighting emitted a vintage feel to the space. There was only one person along with Akaashi, a girl in a green striped sweater who looked like she was on the verge of passing out. She was frantically typing on her MacBook and if Akaashi was being honest, the girl’s amount of concentration unnerved him.

He was here because he needed to do additional readings for a lecture. Now, Akaashi was never a procrastinator but the Chair of their Department demanded so many things from him that a lot of his other work was pushed back and his schedule turned into a mess.

Akaashi looked like a disheveled corpse, his hair all over the place and his skin pale. He was losing sleep over his work and it sent him over the edge.

It was not only because of work but Bokuto as well. He still had the same dreams and it was confusing him more. He wanted answers but no one could give it to him.

Akaashi leaned on his palm when his head started to bob back and forth. His vision was going hazy, the words in the book practically smears at this point. The girl’s constant typing sounded like a melody and slowly, Akaashi felt himself getting pulled down under.

“Please, let me sleep—just this once.” He whispered to no one in particular.

▫ ▫ ▫

_Crying. Yelling. Mayhem._

_In the blink of an eye, the peaceful compound was upturned and chaos ensued. The sharp sounds of swords clashing against each other was heard by everyone. There were servants, begging for mercy, for a chance of their life being spared, only to be viciously murdered. The smell of blood was metallic and pungent and it left a foul after taste._

_It was a massacre. _

_Bokuto ran. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He felt his katana bumping against his leg, making a thudding noise. He was sweating profusely and blood stuck to his kimono and skin but he did not mind. When he was about to arrive in the servant’s quarters, a hoard of unknown warriors lunged at him._

_Quickly, he unsheathed his sword and pierced the first one who came near him. One by one, he defeated his opponents, the men making ghastly gurgling noises when his katana plunged into them. He ended up with a cut on his left arm, the wound ugly and stinging._

_He reached Akaashi’s quarters and with shaking hands, slid the door open. The raven-haired was curled up to himself, face void of any other expression except horror. He was crying as he rocked back and forth._

_“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled and Akaashi looked like he was about to scream. “It’s me!”_

_“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi stood up and hugged him tight. Bokuto caressed his hair, trying to calm him down. “What’s happening?”_

_“We’re under attack.” Bokuto explained and he sounded awfully angry. “I think someone turned on us.” He grabbed Akaashi’s hand with his left one, wincing in pain._

_“Your arm.” Akaashi muttered._

_“It doesn’t matter.” The young master argued. “I’m glad you’re safe but we need to go now.”_

_Akaashi nodded and was soon dragged by Bokuto. They ran hard and fast, the sound of their footsteps following their wake. As they passed by the other areas of the compound, Akaashi saw the bodies of the workers. Their faces were contorted in anguish and their blood spilled like the river. He began to feel queasy, almost throwing up._

_He had been asleep when the killings began. There was one scream and suddenly all hell broke loose. He was lucky that by some twist of fate, the invaders did not enter his room._

_“What about Bokuto-dono?” Akaashi suddenly asked, his lungs wheezing from the lack of air._

_Bokuto did not look back at him and instead continued to lead him forward. “I do not know where my Father is but he knows what to do. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”_

_They took many twists and turns and arrived at an area that Akaashi was unfamiliar with._

_“There’s a secret gate here, we can use it to go outsi—“Before Bokuto could even finish his sentence, a knife was thrown at him, grazing his ear. Akaashi yelled, cowering in fear._

_They turned to see more enemies coming their way. Their swords were tinged red by the blood of the innocent and their eyes showed a lust for slaughter._

_“Run!” Bokuto hissed at Akaashi and pushed him away. The raven-haired could not think of anything else except to listen so he did what he was told. He was anxious about Bokuto but he had no doubt that the young master would follow after him. What ensued next were a series of loud clashes of metal and yells of pain._

_Akaashi managed to achieve quite a distance. His kimono was all tattered and dirty and he had cuts everywhere. His lungs felt like they were on fire, breaths heavy as he tried to get more air. The fighting seemed to have died down and Akaashi prayed that Bokuto was winning so the young master could find him again and they could escape together._

_“Well, what do we have here?” The voice was cold and left a trail of shivers down Akaashi’s spine. He turned around to see a man clothed in black, his eyes were dark and his smile wicked. Before Akaashi could even think of getting away, the man was on him in an instant, pinning his arms behind him._

_“Let me go!” Akaashi demanded as he wriggled to no avail._

_“Why would I do that?” The man taunted. “When I could—”_

_“Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice pierced through the night. The young master emerged from the shadows, much bloodier than when Akaashi left him. He had more wounds, all of them nasty and bright red._

_The man who was holding Akaashi hostage suddenly looked like he hit the jackpot.“Oh? So, you’re the Akaashi who has gotten ahold of the affections of the young master of the Bokuto clan?”_

_“What are you talking about?!” Akaashi continued to writhe to try and get away._

_“Let go of him, Miyoshi!” Bokuto yelled like thunder. Rage filled his body from head to toe and his eyes no longer held that vibrant sheen but a deadly one._

_Miyoshi cackled. “Do my eyes deceive me? The Bokuto Koutarou has a weakness? At first, I didn’t believe them when they said you’d be like this, but now? This is too good.”_

_Bokuto charged at him, swinging his katana but Miyoshi was quicker to react. He stepped back and held a sword right to Akaashi’s neck, the blade precariously positioned on top of the flesh._

_The young master stopped in his tracks, frustration clear on his face. “Please, don’t hurt him.”_

_“That’s what I thought.”_

_“What do you want?”_

_Miyoshi scoffed. “You and your family are so smug just because the shogun grants you good favor. Well not anymore. The Miyoshi clan are turning the tides and we want you out.”_

_Bokuto sighed. “Fine. Take our place.”_

_“Oh? But that isn’t enough Bokuto-san.”_

_What more did they need to get before they were satisfied? “Then hurt me, do whatever you want.”_

_The laugh Miyoshi let out was so off-putting. There was something so sinister about him. “It’s not fun if I hurt you with my sword.” He started. “So, what if, I hurt your beloved here and make you suffer as you watch?”_

_“No!”_

_But Bokuto’s words were for naught because Miyoshi plunged his sword into Akaashi’s arm._

_Akaashi’s insides started screaming at him and his eyes teared up from the pain. The sword felt intrusive and he wanted nothing more than to get it away._

_Bokuto bowed on the ground. “Stop. Please. Let him go.” Akaashi felt sorry. Sorry for being so weak and unable to fight back against this enemy. Maybe if he was stronger, he could help Bokuto and wouldn’t be such a burden._

_“I’ve only just begun, Bokuto-san. After I’m through with him, I’m killing you next.” Miyoshi removed his katana from Akaashi’s arm and stabbed him in the stomach._

_“Stop!” Bokuto was crying now. He felt so useless._

_The sword did not pierce him deeply so Akaashi still felt a shred of consciousness. He was scared because Bokuto would come next if he didn’t do anything and the young master already had too many wounds. Just once, he wanted to do something for Bokuto first._

_Maybe this could be it._

_“Bokuto-san.” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”_

_He took hold of the sword and with his last remaining strength, plunged it all the way deeper, until it came out of Miyoshi’s back._

_“You—” Miyoshi groaned. Before he could do anything further, Bokuto was onto him, kicking him and slashing his neck until a scarlet fountain burst forth._

_Akaashi fell to his knees. He could taste the blood in his mouth and his breaths started getting deeper. _

_“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelled and cradled him in his arms. The young master removed the sword stuck to his body and he winced in discomfort. “It’s going to be alright. You’ll be okay, just don’t close your eyes.” He was clearly panicking, unable to do anything to stop the blood from flowing out of Akaashi’s body._

_“Bokuto-san.”_

_Bokuto was crying hard, rivulets of tears flowing on his face. “Shh, don’t say anything more. You’ll hurt yourself.”_

_Akaashi reached out a hand and held a hand to the young master’s face. He felt a mild sense of guilt for dirtying Bokuto with his blood. “I love you and I’m glad…” It was really hard to talk now. “…I got to do something for you…It was always you who took care of me.”_

_The young master shook his head and held him tighter. “No, Keiji. Don’t say that, we’ll have more moments to ourselves, alright?”_

_“I like it when you call me, Keiji.”_

_Bokuto clasped a hand over the one that Akaashi held to his face._

_“Bokuto-san…” Akaashi wheezed, a stray tear falling down from his eye. “I belong to you.”_

_And the whole world turned dark._

▫ ▫ ▫

Akaashi woke up with a start. He was crying hard, a soft sob wracking his body. After days, he finally dreamed of something new but why was it that terrible? Why did he feel so broken?

He held a hand to his chest, trying to figure out why it was throbbing painfully.

Akaashi looked around to see that he was all alone in the library now. The girl he was with had already left but the stack of books she was using remained perched on the table. He rubbed his eyes to get the tears out.

“You’ve been crying?” A voice spoke from his left. Akaashi turned to see a woman with golden hair and a bright smile, looking empathically at him.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

She suddenly sat down in front of him. “You know, sometimes, the universe makes a huge mistake to someone and causes that person to suffer. However, what’s great about it, is that it tries to make up for its wrongdoing. It takes a long time, even a few reincarnations of our lives, but it gives back what it has taken away.” Then, she slid a book towards him.

The woman got up, bid him a good night and went away.

Akaashi noticed that the book she offered him was a hardbound history book. She left it open on a particular section, one that focused on the Ashikaga Period of ancient Japan. He could have shrugged it off and left the library right there but a curious voice in Akaashi’s mind, convinced him to read it.

He perused the pages and read interesting anecdotes about the lives of certain powerful elites during that period. As he continued reading, he found himself getting more invested.

But then, a particular section caught his eye.

**The Bokuto clan was one of the most powerful families during the Ashikaga period with Bokuto Haruto being the daimyo in the province of Shimosa. In line with the Ashikaga period’s war-torn character, the Bokuto clan served to protect the emperor and was frequently engaged in battle with usurpers of the throne.**

**In the year 1405, they were attacked by the Miyoshi clan, killing the daimyo. The subsequent decline of their power and influence was attributed to the loss of the clan patriarch.**

**Bokuto Koutarou, was known as the clan’s greatest warrior and was next in line for the daimyo position. However, after the Miyoshi siege, the young master disappeared without a trace, firmly establishing the fall of their clan.**

Akaashi’s breath caught on his throat, shock filling his being.

He continued to skim through the book, his fingers shaking and his heart racing. He stopped at a chapter that contained photo evidence of artifacts during the Ashikaga period. Among the various yellow-stained parchment scanned on the pages, one stood out in particular.

_Dear Kuroo-san,_

_ My dear friend, it has been a long time since I last heard from you. How are you doing? Is your mother finally feeling better? I hope so. I have been lighting incense candles and helping your family pray for her._

_ As for myself, I am doing really well. Father left me in-charge of the compound again because he’s going to be staying at the capital for a few weeks. You do know what this means, right? Yes, I can drink as much sake as I please._

_ I have gotten closer to Akaashi Keiji (remember, that person brought by Tayu-oiran?). We went for a round of drinks and he confided to me his lonesome past. His father had left him and his mother all alone which was why they had to move to Yoshiwara. There, his mother had to do all sorts of jobs to sustain them but she ended up taking her own life. Since then, Akaashi has struggled and moved from one house to another but now he is under my care._

_ Kuroo, it saddens me how someone like him has experienced a great misfortune in life. I believe that no one deserves to go through such a trial and I shall do my best to make him feel safe. I have grown attached to him. I find myself smiling so much more when we spend time together._

_ I shall end this letter before you grow sick of all my romantic woes. Take care of yourself, Kuroo._

_Your friend,_

_Bokuto Koutarou_

**A letter from Bokuto Koutarou (Shimosa Province) to Kuroo Tetsurou (Izu Province). Circa 1405**

However, that was not the main thing that had surprised Akaashi because when he turned the page, right smackdab in the middle, was a portrait of him and Bokuto. He was in a white kimono, contrasting against the red-orange hues of the sky and leaves. Bokuto was sitting next to him, one foot raised and letting him lean on his broad shoulder.

The caption read:

**Bokuto Koutarou (Shimosa Province) with unknown. Circa 1405**

It did not matter that the label said unknown. Akaashi knew it was him and that these were proofs of his and Bokuto’s past lives. The Akaashi then had suffered a great deal and only had one beautiful thing—love, yet it was taken away from him.

The present. This was their second chance. After all that pain and hardship, he and Bokuto were really made to find each other.

Akaashi couldn’t believe how stupid he was.

Bokuto was telling the truth and it was his fault for thinking that the former would lie. Screw the fear of going too fast. If Bokuto, made him happy, then maybe he should take the plunge.

He snapped the book close and frantically arranged his stuff. He had to go to Bokuto, he had to explain himself.

Akaashi started walking briskly. When he passed the front desk of the library, he saw the golden-haired woman there, looking at him encouragingly. He mouthed a thank you and she merely winked, focusing on her magazine afterwards.

As Akaashi stepped outside, he just hoped in his heart that Bokuto would let him in.

▫ ▫ ▫

It didn’t take that long for Akaashi to reach Bokuto’s condo. He was standing outside the latter’s door, wondering if he should knock. Suddenly, the door swung open and out came Bokuto, hair a mess and face looking tired.

Bokuto’s eyes went wide at the sight of him. “Akaashi?”

Akaashi wasted no more time and grabbed the other’s face to kiss him. He wondered if he was doing this correctly for it was all so jarring. He felt Bokuto relax under him and slip a hand around his waist.

It felt so right that he could get drunk off it. He loved the way their lips danced in perfect unison. Akaashi was utterly weak for Bokuto Koutarou.

They broke off, their breaths deep and heavy.

“I’m sorry.” Akaashi said, looking at Bokuto directly in the eye. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you and pushed you away.”

Bokuto gave him a sweet a smile. “I’m sorry for springing up all that information on you.”

Akaashi only shook his head adamantly. “No, I was in the wrong. I also got scared about how we might have been moving too fast.”

“Do you still think that?”

Akaashi squeezed Bokuto’s face that was in between his palms. “Not anymore. I want to be with you, Bokuto-san.”

“M-me too, Akaashi.” Bokuto stammered, still unbelieving in all that was happening.

“Can I come in?”

Bokuto jumped at that. “Of course! Sorry.”

Akaashi sat down on the couch and Bokuto offered him a cup of tea. He felt slightly giddy at how the latter remembered his favorite flavor. He blew on the drink, trying to cool it down and Bokuto observed him, not saying anything.

“I actually started having the dreams too.” Akaashi admitted. “They weren’t like yours because mine was just one dream over and over again.”

“What was it?” Bokuto asked.

“The Tanabata Festival.” He sipped on his tea and enjoyed its warm and sweet taste. “Tonight, though, I had another dream. It was the one where I died.”

A small “Oh” was heard from Bokuto’s lips. “I saw that too. I couldn’t go back to sleep afterwards.”

Akaashi chuckled. “It made me cry in the library.”

“The you in the past was really unhappy. I feel guilty that I was unable to save you.” Bokuto confessed, a sad look on his face.

Akaashi grabbed Bokuto’s hand and intertwined their fingers. It was interesting how his were larger yet Bokuto’s was thicker. Nonetheless, to him, they were a perfect fit. “The us from back then are different from the us now.” Akaashi squeezed their hands. “Finding each other is the universe’s way of making amends and I’m grateful.”

Bokuto squeezed his hands back, a silent agreement to what he said. “Hey Kaashi?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want to stay the night?”

“I’d love that.”

▫ ▫ ▫

Moonlight seeped through the curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. Bokuto moved around listlessly, trying to hug Akaashi tighter. Meanwhile, the latter just grinned, adoring how clingy the former was. Akaashi ran a gentle hand through Bokuto’s hair, the strand soft under his touch.

“Bokuto-san?”

Silence.

“I belong to you.”

In the presence of the night, with his lips pressed to Akaashi’s skin, Bokuto responded. “And I, to you.”

▫ ▫ ▫

_“Bokuto-san, do you think we could ever meet in our next life?”_

_“I’d like to believe that, Akaashi.”_

_“Me too.”_

_“It’s settled then, we’ll spend this life and all future lives together.”_

_“Sounds like a plan.”_


End file.
